


A Collingwood girl for an Abbotsford Man

by aljohnson



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, First Time, Sex, aussie rules football
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 16:32:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2658779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aljohnson/pseuds/aljohnson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Called in to investigate a series of threatening letters, Jack Robinson finds himself in attendance at the 1929 VFL Grand Final. Naturally Phryne is there to assist him. Matters escalate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Collingwood girl for an Abbotsford Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KaleRider](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaleRider/gifts).



> 1) This gets a little tropey in places. 
> 
> 2) There is smut.
> 
> 3) Why on earth Jack Robinson supports the entirely fictional 'Abbotsford' when in real life there is a 'Richmond' team, I do not know. I am going to assume licensing issues. But 'Abbotsford' it is - I suspect it's a substitute for the genuine Richmond, and we know that in MFMM world, Collingwood; one of the most famous AFL teams does still exist.
> 
> Coincidentally, the 1929 VFL (as it was then) Grand Final was played between Collingwood and Richmond. I have mapped Abbotsford's performance onto that of Richmond. In the two weeks leading up to the match, the Collingwood players were genuinely sent a series of threatening letters. They were all intercepted en route. My research hasn't been able to tell me whether the culprits were ever discovered. 
> 
> On that point - I live in Britain, I have never even seen a game of Aussie Rules Football. I have gleaned what I can from Wikipedia, and have tried to get my facts right. If I have got anything glaringly wrong, please let me know. 
> 
> 4) Abbotsford play in Green and Maroon, as far as I am concerned. I will accept that I am way overdue an eye-test. 
> 
> 5) This work is unrelated to any other fics I have written for MFMM.

Phryne swept the Hispano-Suiza into the indicated spot in the car park of Melbourne Cricket Ground, and shimmied out of the driver’s seat. She was a vision in a long, black overcoat with white fur trim. A black cloche, also with white trim, was carefully pinned to her head, the hatpin displaying a subtle black and white feather. Little else could be seen of Phryne’s outfit, the cold weather meaning Phryne’s coat was buttoned up to the collar. A smart pair of black trousers could be seen emerging from the bottom of the coat, and a defiantly white pair of ankle boots peeped out from under the flared hem of the trousers. 

“Magpies supporter Miss?” asked the steward. Phryne merely smiled enigmatically in return.

“Lapsed, mostly. I’m here on Official Business” and with that remark she swept off towards the grandstand.

Thousands of fans were milling around, queuing up for the turnstiles, waiting for the game to begin and enjoying some not-entirely friendly banter with opposition supporters.  
There was a sea of white and black or maroon and green, dependent on the allegiance of the individual. Phryne swept through them all unapologetically.

As she marched across the forecourt, she spotted Jack, leaning casually against the wall next to the grandstand entrance.

“Jack!” she cried, causing several people in the crowds to turn and look toward her. Jack smiled and shifted away from the wall slightly. Phryne powered towards him, breath-taking in black and white. 

“We’re supposed to be neutral, Miss Fisher. Don’t you think that’s a little, well, obvious?” he asked, gesturing towards the ensemble.

“A lady is never obvious Jack, and I would remind you that ladies conceal lots of things. Who knows what you might find if you examine the evidence more closely?” Phryne practically purred in Jack’s ear. 

“Ah, you can take the girl out of Collingwood,” Jack began.

“But you can never quite take the Collingwood out of the girl? The thing about Collingwood is; we often play dirty” teased Phryne. 

Jack swallowed, his throat constricting, “shall we go inside? It’s slightly warmer”.

Jack opened the door and ushered Phryne inside the stand. They made their way to the a discreetly situated office, where various officials and police officers in plain clothes were waiting. Jack drew Phryne over to the side of the room.

“Have we still got no clues?” Phryne asked.

“Not a one” replied Jack, “it could be anyone here; anyone from the Abbotsford team; a supporter; someone from a different team trying to give Collingwood’s players the jitters…” Jack went quiet.

“I’d think someone from Abbotsford most likely. No offence Jack” said Phryne.

“None taken Miss Fisher, none taken.” Jack moved into the middle of the room slightly, and cleared his throat. Having got the attention of the occupants of the room, he began to speak.

“Good afternoon gentlemen. Most of you have met me before, either in the course of this investigation, or because you are a member of the Victoria Constabulary. As you will know, over the course of the last week, numerous threatening items of correspondence have been dispatched to the Collingwood players. Luckily, all of them have been intercepted, and the players have been able to remain focused on their game today, unaware of the threats. But we must be vigilant. We have made little progress in tracing the miscreants who have sent this correspondence, and they could deliver on their threats during today’s match. Be alert. Be watchful. Report anything suspicious to Inspector O’Shaughnessy here” Jack indicated the man, “who has taken control of today’s operation. I am here to observe, but because of my known support for Abbotsford, I must confine myself to an advisory role. Thank you gentlemen. May the best team win!”

“Indeed” piped up Phryne, from her position at the side of the room. Jack glared at her, “sorry Inspector, just trying to get into the spirit of things!” Phryne noted Jack’s glare. He stepped back and she leaned into him. “If we’re supposed to be neutral, how come you have a rosette pinned to your hat band?” Phryne cocked an eyebrow upwards, in the direction of Jack’s hat, “and in maroon and green?” she smouldered.

There had been quite a lot of that recently Jack had noticed. Smiling; smouldering; flirting; touching. Invitations to ‘examine evidence’ and ‘investigate’ her more thoroughly. Jack shivered slightly. Phryne was highly distracting, and it was becoming harder and harder to deny his attraction to her. 

The others in the room began to disburse as O’Shaughnessy finished his instructions. The officials, from the MCG, the two teams and the VFL were to report anything suspicious to any of the numerous officers who would be situated around the ground. Many were in plain clothes, but virtually the entire city constabulary was present either undercover or in uniform; sixty thousand footie fans needed a watchful eye overseeing them, even without threatening correspondence.

“Shall we take our seats?” Jack asked, offering his arm. Phryne wrapped her arm around Jack’s and allowed him to escort her from the warm room to the slightly more exposed grandstand. They were to be seated towards the rear of the upper tier, the position affording panoramic views of the inside of the ground. 

The loudspeaker of the Public Address speaker crackled shrilly into life:

_“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to the 1929 Victorian Football League Grand Final.  
The competitors today are: in Black and White, the top of the ladder team, victors in every home and every away match this season, premiers for the 1927 and 1928 seasons, COLLINGWOOD!!!!!!!” _

“I’m not exactly sure that announcer’s unbiased either” said Phryne, continuing to link arms with Jack, despite the fact that they were now comfortably sat in their seats. Unusually, Jack chose not to break the contact, they were, after all, ‘undercover’ as a couple. The Collingwood players ran out onto the pitch, receiving a raucous standing ovation from their fans. 

_“And, in maroon and green, having finished third on the ladder, they pulled off a sensational victory in the Semi-Final against their opponents today; their seconds won the Challenge Cup Final just two days ago, ABBOTSFORD!!!”_

The Abbotsford players ran out onto the pitch as their fans leapt to their feet and started vocally demonstrating their support.

“Your team will be all out to get revenge for that loss in the Semi’s” said Jack, leaning in towards Phryne.

“When I said lapsed, Jack, I meant lapsed. I am here for the excellent company. Although this is all rather thrilling isn’t it? A girl could get very excited” Phryne batted her lashes at Jack, squeezing his thigh with her hand, leaving him in no doubt as to whose company she found to be excellent. Jack looked at her and swallowed deeply. Phryne always flirted with him, but this felt much more blatant than she ever had been before. 

The umpire blew his whistle for the start of the match and most of the crowd rose to their feet to shout encouragement. Feet stamped on the wooden boards of the grandstand, making the noise even louder. Phryne turned towards Jack, the two of them still seated, a bubble of calm in a riot of over exuberance. Phryne grabbed Jack’s chin in both hands and smacked her lips against his. She withdrew slightly, looked him square in the eye and said “May the best team win Jack”. Jack was temporarily stunned, but Phryne still hadn’t broken contact and was still only inches away from him. He decided to go big on the undercover front; really play up the ‘realism’ of them as a couple on the off-chance that their unknown miscreants were observing. Jack reached his hand to the back of Phryne’s neck and tugged her gently but insistently towards him. His lips met hers and he instantly deepened the kiss, opening his mouth as Phryne responded in the same manner. Phryne’s hands slid, one round to Jack’s shoulder, the other down his jaw line to settle on his neck, mapping the contours she found there. When they separated Jack tilted his head and stated, “No Miss Fisher, may Abbotsford win!”

Phryne’s mind set off firecrackers and danced a jig. She had got fed up of waiting for Jack to make his move and had decided to nudge the situation along. ‘Nudge’ was perhaps an understatement: he had been driving her to distraction for months now and something needed to be done to resolve the situation. The last time they had been at a football game the atmosphere between them had been electric, and Phryne had decided to attempt to recreate that energy. She had been so sure he was going to make his move that day, and had been bitterly disappointed when he had not. Of course, it had all gone to shit shortly afterwards, and it had taken them some time to get back on an even keel. Then her bloody Aunt had walked in at exactly the wrong time in her own hallway, when she had been sure that this finally, was going to be it. It hadn’t been, and the frustration had been building inside her like a volcano teetering on the edge of eruption. Phryne realised that attendance at a football match appeared to revert her internal monologue to language more used to being expressed on the streets of Collingwood than in her exquisite house in St Kilda. She mentally set her accent back to ‘finishing school’ and settled back in her seat.

Christmas in July, when even the excuse of ‘we could all die’ had not broken his reserve, had made her think that he was going cold on her, but since then the ensuing almost three months had seen them working on numerous cases together, all of which had ended with Jack sat in her parlour, drinking her excellent whiskey and swapping stories. She had come to learn more about him, his family and his life in the last three months than the previous twelve, and the insights had only increased her hunger for him. So a nudge it was to be. She had further nudges in her armour today, she wondered how many of them she would have to deploy. 

Jack was stunned. She had kissed him, and he had kissed her back, and the world hadn’t ended. No one had interrupted them; no one had attempted assault, murder or any other crime in their immediate vicinity and the sun had even come out slightly. 

He wanted her, wanted to be with her, to ‘misbehave’ as he had sung to her a few months earlier. He had been sorely tempted to make his move that night, but something had held him back. Earlier in the year, the lethal dress she had modelled had almost seen him combust, and the radiant way she had looked at him during the Abbotsford and West Melbourne match had made his heart soar. It would have been highly inappropriate to have tried to kiss her that day, with George, Rosie and Sidney all watching, and he had contented himself with gently wrapping his scarf around her neck instead, attempting to convey with his gaze all that he could not yet say. It occurred to him that she had not yet returned his scarf, and the sentimentalist within him hoped that one day she would gently wrap the scarf around his neck, kissing him sweetly as she returned the item to him. He shuddered slightly; he should not allow his mind to wander in this way.

He had enjoyed the last few months; had felt comfortable with opening up to her about his life. She in turn had told him some highly outrageous, and he believed entirely true, tales of her expeditions across Europe, the Middle East and Northern Africa. They had laughed, and joked, and he had smiled more than he had in years. Every time, he had bid her goodnight and returned home. But lately, it had become more difficult to tear himself away at the end of the night. He had taken to kissing her hand, and that had developed to her then tenderly caressing his cheek as she adjusted his hat, or straightened his tie, or seemingly did anything to maintain physical contact. Jack was not blind to Phryne’s obvious desire for him, and he was quite sure that she could judge the expression on his face to be one of wistful longing, but it seemed like neither of them quite had the courage to make that final, definitive, relationship changing step. He wondered whether he would find the courage to take that final step today. 

On the pitch, Abbotsford kicked an early goal. Jack sat back contentedly. Perhaps his team would win today. Then he could kiss Phryne with euphoria, and see how neutral she was about Collingwood’s involvement in this match. 

Phryne reached over and gently took Jack’s hand in hers. She intertwined their fingers, and lightly rubbed her thumb over Jack’s. Jack slowly turned his head towards Phryne, who was maintaining a steadfast gaze in the direction of the pitch. Collingwood went on the offensive and quickly took the lead back from Abbotsford. Jack couldn’t help making his despondency felt, and he shouted out in frustration. Phryne looked at him now, and released their joined fingers moving instead to lightly squeeze his thigh.

“Now, now Jack, it’s early yet. Anything could happen” Jack had the sudden feeling that Phryne was not just referring to the match. His breath became strained. What happened on the pitch over the next few minutes, Jack would have been unable to tell anyone, but as the siren sounded for the end of the quarter, the roar of the crowds shook him from his stupor and he realised that Collingwood had taken a good lead. Phryne could see Jack’s disappointment, and tried to lighten the mood.

“Well, at least no one has died Jack” 

“Not yet, Miss Fisher, but there are three quarters left to play” Jack sighed. “This is not going well” he said, “but your team appears to be winning Miss Fisher. I take it you’re enjoying yourself?”

“Well you know me, Jack, I do enjoy athletic, good looking men who keep themselves in shape” Phryne replied, looking directly at Jack as she spoke.

“Miss Fisher, you are not even looking at the pitch” responded Jack.

“Who said I was talking about the players, Jack?” Phryne practically smouldered towards him, “and Jack, as I have told you, my support for Collingwood is lapsed”. She moved her hand to the top button of her coat, and started to free it, sliding it carefully through its buttonhole. The button came free, and she moved her hand down to the next button. That restraint now freed, she carefully peeled back the high collar, revealing a length of soft maroon and green to Jack. 

Jack gasped, and instinctively found himself reaching towards Phryne. She made no attempt to dissuade him as he reached his hand inside the top of her coat and ran his fingers down the wool. He quickly withdrew his fingers and carefully closed the coat again, but left the buttons unfastened. 

“Is that, mine?” he asked, breathing more shallowly.

“I wouldn’t want there to be any doubt as to whose team I was on, Jack. I think my heart lies with Abbotsford. Or at least, an Abbotsford man” Phryne was breathing more shallowly now as well. The gaze in her eyes was open and vulnerable, and Jack suddenly realised that Phryne was taking the final step that he had until now been too afraid to take. 

“This coat is Collingwood colours” said Jack, astonished by what Phryne was saying.

“Well that’s just the outer layer Jack; perhaps what I’m concealing underneath is much less neutral?” it was a question, a statement and a challenge all in one. The siren sounded for the second quarter, the shock of the noise somehow spurring Jack to make a momentous decision. He pulled Phryne towards him, and made to kiss her. 

Phryne interpreted the expression in Jack’s eyes as one of barely controlled lust and dodged his lips, holding him still as she whispered into his ear, “I think Jack, that even for me, this is a little too public”. She moved back slightly and looked at Jack. Jack realised that she wasn’t objecting to his advance, rather the location. He had to agree that attempting to ravish her in the middle of a grandstand during the biggest match of the VFL season was probably inadvisable.

Jack stood up, and moved out to the stairs of the grandstand, gripping Phryne’s hand tightly to bring her with him. “Come with me” he growled into her ear. Phryne gasped but went willingly. The look of determination that had crossed Jack’s face as he had stood up had positively intrigued her.

One of the Collingwood officials saw Inspector Robinson moving down the stairs, the Lady Detective close behind him, and stood up to check if they had spotted something.

“Are you all right” he asked, and Jack decided he wanted to wring the man’s neck.

“Yes, we’re perfectly fine, thank you. Miss Fisher has just made a very interesting point of insight regarding this case and I feel we should go and examine the evidence closely, right now, whilst the thoughts are fresh in our heads” Jack was babbling and he knew it.

“Oh of course, should I come with you?” the official asked.

“No, no, that won’t be necessary, thank you” said Phryne, coming to Jack’s rescue. “If it is noticed that you aren’t watching the game, it could draw unwanted attention to our investigation. You should stay here. In any event, the Inspector and I often work best together when unobserved by anyone else. Our investigations are a close, collaborative process.” Jack had no idea where Phryne was managing to maintain the coherence and charm she was displaying, he just knew he had to get her away from the crowds, and on her own somewhere, anywhere, now. 

The official acquiesced, and Jack and Phryne hurried down the steps, part walk, part stumble, their hands joined together, and never separating. They disappeared out of sight of the crowds into an otherwise deserted corridor. Jack pulled Phryne to him and immediately kissed her, all hesitancy gone. He pulled her as close and as tightly as he dared, and felt her responding to him. The kiss deepened; passion and lust kindling the flames of desire. On the pitch, points were scored and the crowd roared enthusiastically, the noise a wall of sound.

Jack broke off the kiss, but held Phryne close. She was flushed, her breathing deepening as she continued to regard Jack with a gaze of unadulterated craving. 

“Is, that, my, scarf?” Jack practically growled the question into Phryne’s ear.

“Yes” replied Phryne, kissing Jack’s neck as she replied. 

Jack cast his eyes around him, orientating himself. The room they had been in earlier was only a few feet away. Jack pulled Phryne to him and steered her into the now empty office. He shut the door behind him and as the latch clicked shut behind him, found Phryne was now pinning him to the back of the door.

Phryne slammed into Jack, pushing him back against the wood and kissing him fiercely. Jack wrapped his arms around Phryne and pulled her to him. They both deepened the kiss; their tongues swirling around each other as their desires increased. Phryne felt all of herself pushed up against Jack, their bodies joined at as many points as possible. Jack’s hands were everywhere all at once. Phryne could feel the huge swirls across her back, down her ribcage, and around her shoulders. 

The thickness of her coat prevented any real sensation, a fact Jack himself quickly realised. He moved a hand around, and began working on the buttons of Phryne’s coat. The first two were already released, and Jack could only find the space to work the next two free. Phryne broke off the kiss and shook off Jack’s hands, taking a step back from him into the open space of the office. She looked around quickly.

“Does that door lock?” she asked.

Jack checked - there was no key, “I don’t think so”.

Phryne quickly assessed the situation. She moved over to the large desk which occupied a space just off-centre of the room, and pushed the wheeled chair towards Jack forcefully. He dodged the missile and rammed the chair under the door handle, praying it would be effective if anyone tried to walk in. 

Jack moved over towards Phryne, who lifted one hand, and raised one finger, in the manner of a stop signal. Jack froze. Phryne smiled, and reached into the band of her hat, carefully removing her hatpin. She took her hat off, and carefully placed it on a convenient side cabinet. 

“Millinery is a life and death matter, Jack” she teased. Jack looked at Phryne, and realised that there was a slide in her hair, which had remained quite unnoticeable whilst she had been wearing her hat. The slide had a small rosette mounted on it, and Jack realised the rosette was in his team’s colours. He moved over to her, and gently stroked his fingers through her hair, flitting lightly around the edge of the rosette as he did so. 

“Phryne? Are you my Collingwood girl?” he asked, with such tender vulnerability that Phryne thought he might break down if she denied him now.

“Yes Jack, I am” she reached up and kissed him lightly on the cheek. 

Jack swallowed, deeply. “Is this” he swept a hand in the air, to indicate the room, “all right?” 

Phryne said nothing, but took two steps past Jack, turned slowly to face him and removed her coat. She tossed it onto the wheeled chair, adding more weight to it, encouraging its effectiveness as an emergency lock.

Jack looked at her. Her trousers were black, her blouse white. He could see a darker material underneath the blouse, and wondered what, exactly, Phryne might be concealing. Round her neck was draped his scarf; the simplest item she wore. The maroon and green contrasted with the white of the blouse. She was a vision to him and he thought he had never seen anything so alluring in his life. 

Phryne quirked an eyebrow at him, and gestured that he should remove his overcoat. He did so, with much haste and little grace, and threw it on top of her overcoat, on the now heavily laden chair. His hat found a space on the side cabinet near to hers. He carried on, removing his jacket, his tie and his waistcoat. 

Phryne quirked an eyebrow at Jack’s silent striptease. Above them, in the grandstand, the crowd was becoming more raucous, as Abbotsford attempted to pull back points from Collingwood. In the office, Jack leant against the desk and pierced Phryne with a gaze that confirmed to her that his intentions were far from honourable. 

She smiled a small, shy smile, and dipped her head to undo the buttons on her blouse. Having found the fastenings, she looked up at Jack, and held his gaze as she undid the last of the tiny buttons. She shifted her shoulders slightly to loosen the blouse, and slid it, slowly, down her arms, dropping it to the floor. 

Jack had been quite, quite wrong; the sight before him now was the most alluring vision he had ever seen. Beneath the blouse, Phryne was wearing a close fitting camisole, in silk which was almost sheer. It was maroon in colour, a perfect match for the wool of his scarf, and there was a lace trim in dark green, across the bust line and along the bottom hem.

“I take it back” said Jack, “I think your allegiance is undoubted” he had no idea how he had managed to speak, let alone something approaching a witty remark. 

“Well I am glad Jack, that you have no doubt whatsoever. I know exactly where my allegiances lie”. Phryne bent forward and quickly removed her boots. She had, when very deliberately choosing this outfit, picked items which would be relatively easy to remove, and she subtly pushed the socks she was wearing from her feet as she removed the footwear. She had earlier determined that, if the afternoon had gone to plan, as it now most definitely was, that expecting Jack to have the patience to deal with stockings was asking too much. So beneath the trousers her legs were bare.

Phryne stalked over to Jack, as a lioness might stalk its prey. Jack decided to surrender. When she was standing between his legs, Phryne pressed herself into Jack, slowly connecting them from her hips upwards, until her face was a mere inch from his, each able to feel the other’s hot breath as their need grew. The kiss was passionate, desperate and enduring. Tongues battled each other until mouths disconnected; Jack hungrily kissed any part of Phryne he could now reach. Her jaw, cheek, neck, shoulders, arms, décolletage; all received lavish attention. Their hands were everywhere all at once, and not enough. 

On the pitch, Collingwood moved into a decisive lead. Their fans were becoming more impassioned, rising to their feet with every advance, pounding their feet in support of their team, the swell of their noise increasing with every additional goal scored and point won. The siren sounded for the end of the second quarter. Phryne and Jack never heard it, the pounding of their hearts overwhelming all external sound.

For her part Phryne was touching every part of Jack she could. He still had far too many clothes on for her liking. She swept his braces from his shoulders, and started work on the buttons of his shirt. She worked from the top down and realised that Jack was working from the bottom up. They met in the middle and as the last button was freed, Phryne swept her arms up, freeing Jack’s shoulders. He gamely assisted, shucking the item onto the floor. Phryne ran her hands over Jack’s chest and shoulders. His skin was remarkably smooth, his shoulders and back well developed and toned.

Jack swept his hands up and under Phryne’s camisole. Her skin was warm and pliant, and Phryne leaned into him as he continued his explorations. His fingers delicately traced over her breasts, and he lightly swept the pad of his thumb over first one nipple, then the other. Phryne sighed and shivered slightly at the contact. She was somewhat surprised at how much the delicacy of the touch was affecting her. Jack dipped his fingers beneath the edge of Phryne’s trousers. He could feel silk as he moved his hand over her pert bottom. Jack decided that he needed to see more of Phryne, to be able to run his hands across her backside uninhibited by the trousers.

Displaying a dexterity that surprised him, and intrigued Phryne, he made swift work of the buttons and slid the material gently down her legs. Phryne kicked the trousers behind her, and Jack slowly cast his gaze downwards. The siren sounded for the start of the third quarter.

Jack wondered how many times it was possible to be wrong in one afternoon. The knickers, which were the tiniest underwear he had ever seen, made a matching set with the camisole. The green trim lay around the top, and there was a tiny green bow, which lay front and centre on the maroon silk, in line with Phryne’s belly button. This, truly, was the most breath-taking sight he had ever encountered. He swept a hand around Phryne’s hips and down onto her thighs, before sweeping around to caress her bottom, sweeping up to her lower back. He held her to him and kissed her once more. 

Phryne wound her hands around Jack, mapping his back and shoulders. She could feel her desire building as Jack kissed her and she kissed him back. Jack could feel his desire building, and suddenly swung Phryne around so that she was leant on the desk. He broke the kiss and looked at Phryne, whose pupils dilated with lust. Jack glanced at the desk. It was liberally covered with papers, a few pens, a small desk clock and various sundry stationery items. He reached around Phryne and with one arm, swept everything onto the floor. He gripped Phryne round the waist and lifted her onto the desk. 

“Jack” murmured Phryne, “how unexpected”

“Well I hope to be able to surprise you a bit more yet” replied Jack, seductively. The depth in his voice rumbled through Phryne and made her desire spike even further. 

Jack gently pushed Phryne back, towards the desk top. Phryne took the hint and lay back, supporting herself on her bent arms. Jack pulled on her legs carefully, moving Phryne’s bottom to the edge of the desk. He kissed her passionately on the mouth, before breaking that kiss and trialling a path down Phryne’s body with kisses ranging from light and feathered to deep and biting. He pushed the bottom of the camisole up slightly and suckled on her waist, hungrily laving soft kisses across her stomach. He looked up at Phryne and placed his hands on the edge of the desk. He quirked an eyebrow as he slowly sank to his knees, positioning himself between Phryne’s thighs.

He swept his hands along each of her legs, lightly stroking her thighs, the backs of her knees, her calves and her feet. Phryne’s feet flinched slightly as Jack’s thumb rubbed over the sensitive arches of her feet. Jack kissed his way back up the insides of Phryne’s legs, alternating between left and right as he moved ever higher. His fingers lightly danced around the edge of Phryne’s knickers. Phryne felt her body tense in anticipation. Jack circled his tongue over the very top of Phryne’s inner thigh, glancing up at her as he did so. Phryne was practically panting now, so shallow was her breath, so great her desire. 

Jack swallowed deeply, and moved his hands underneath the back of Phryne’s thighs. He hooked his thumbs into the top of her knickers, and gently loosened the material, attempting to tug the material downwards. 

“Oh” moaned Phryne quietly. She levered herself up on her arms, so her bottom was hovering in the air, allowing Jack to slide the silk down her legs. The knickers free of her body, Jack rubbed his thumb and fingers over the smooth material, and pushed the underwear into the pocket of his trousers. He re-adjusted his position between her thighs and laid his hands and upper arms gently on top of her legs, his fingers stroking her hips and waist. 

“Is this, all right?” he asked, pausing to gaze at Phryne with hooded eyes. Phryne, whose hunger for Jack was becoming overwhelming, found herself only capable of uttering one word.

“Yes” she breathed, the word barely audibly. 

Jack needed no further reassurance, and hungrily pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Phryne’s folds. The obvious enthusiasm took Phryne by surprise and she released a guttural moan, surprising herself with the force of her reaction to this most preliminary of actions by Jack. Against her warmth, Jack allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. He swept his tongue lightly inside her slick heat, noting with pleasure that Phryne was already quite damp. 

Jack released his right hand and moved it around to his mouth. He quickly suckled on his own fingers, damping them as thoroughly as he was able. He gently took two fingers and spread her opening wider. He delved his tongue deeper in, before retreating slightly and moving his tongue upwards, gently sliding a finger inside Phryne’s sleekness.

He used his thumb to gently loosen the fold above her most intimate of places, and carefully swirled the tip of his tongue across the sensitive button. Phryne moaned once more as her head fell back. Her back arched off the desk as Jack continued to passionately lavish attention on Phryne’s moistness, his left hand gently pinning her hips to the desk as Phryne felt the intensity crescendo within her. As Jack slid another finger into Phryne’s warmth, Phryne felt the pressure build and tighten. As the siren sounded for the end of the third quarter Phryne came with a cry, Jack’s name spilling from her lips as she clenched onto his encased fingers. 

Jack pushed himself up from his knees, and stood up. He moved his left hand around to Phryne’s back to support her. As the pulsating rhythm of her core slowed, Jack carefully released his fingers from her entrance, stroking them lightly across her folds, before sliding his right hand up to rest lightly on her hip. He pulled her up and held her to him gently, feeling the rise and fall of her chest as she recovered from her climax. He kissed her lightly on the temple, displaying a tenderness which triggered a further flare of arousal within Phryne. 

Phryne turned to meet Jack’s gaze, “I want you, Jack” she stated, to avoid any possible misunderstanding. 

On the pitch, the siren sounded for the start of the last quarter, and the roar of the crowds became deafening. In the quiet of the office, the roar of the crowd was dulled and muted, the intensity and enthusiasm of the crowd a fraction of the pent up need felt by Phryne and Jack. Jack toed off his shoes and socks, as Phryne worked at the buttons on the fly of his trousers. Phryne shoved the trousers and Jack’s underwear down his legs and he stepped out of the items, kicking them under the desk. Phryne made a move to remove Jack’s scarf and her camisole. Jack swallowed, and fixed Phryne with a look that spoke of suppressed desires.

“Leave the scarf on” he rumbled. Phryne returned Jack’s gaze, and read within the deep blue pools of his eyes a fervour and a fear. She raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly. She was suddenly grateful for her flexibility, as she pulled the camisole off, lifting it over her back first, before sweeping it carefully down over the length of the scarf. Jack helped her manoeuvre the silk and lace item and lightly dropped it to the floor. 

The scarf was lightly draped around Phryne’s neck, falling over her breasts and cascading down to her hips. Jack ran the edge of the scarf between his fingers, trailing his hand slowly upwards. As his fingers reached Phryne’s neck he stroked the soft skin of her neck, before tracing up to her jawline and cheek. He held her chin gently in his hand and kissed her sweetly. 

Phryne trailed her fingers down Jack’s body, her arousal growing at the mere sight of him. His erection was prominent, and Phryne played with his cock as she delicately teased him. She broke the kiss and quickly licked her palm and fingers, before returning to her ministrations. Jack growled as his arousal became overwhelming. 

Phryne moved a hand around, and pulled on Jack’s left thigh. She hoped he was at least slightly flexible. She brought his leg up and encouraged him to bend it, resting it on the desk, his right leg resting on the ground. Phryne threw her right leg over Jack’s bent thigh, thrusting her hips upwards. She placed her left foot on the edge of the desk and wrapped her toes around the rounded edge. She pushed her knee forwards so that her leg was bent past Jack’s hip. Jack instinctively moved his hand to hold her leg in place, his other hand carefully moving to support her raised bottom. 

Phryne rested her upper body back on the desktop, her hand releasing Jack’s excited member as she placed her hands on the desk to support herself. Releasing one hand, she lightly flicked Jack’s scarf so that her breasts were exposed. Jack leant forward and took her left nipple into his mouth, feasting on the smooth mound. He released her nipple with a pop, before teasing his tongue over it, watching as it hardened with exposure to the cold air. He moved to her right breast and repeated the movements. He kissed her abdomen before standing up, and gazing down at the sight of her. Phryne was spread across the desk, naked but for his prized footie scarf. The look on her face was pure, unadulterated lust, and it was all for him. 

“Now, Jack” growled Phryne. 

Jack needed no further encouragement. He levered Phryne’s hips up further, and plunged into her sweet dampness. The feel of her was exhilarating and he shut his eyes and shuddered at the welcoming warmth of her. Phryne watched as Jack pushed into her, and whimpered as he filled her completely. Neither of them moved for a moment, taking this opportunity to imprint the image of themselves in their minds. 

Phryne threw a sultry look at Jack, and lifted one hand to her mouth. Licking the tips of her fingers, she moved her hand lower and lightly stroked her own nipple, pinching the hardened point between her fingertips. 

“Oh God” growled Jack. He clamped his hand even harder to the hip of her bent leg and began to move. Phryne matched his movements, and they quickly found a rhythm that satisfied them both. Phryne could feel her climax building once more and began to moan. 

As they moved as one, the dying minutes of the Grand Final played out above them. The Collingwood fans were whipping themselves into a frenzy, their team now with an unassailable lead. The fans screamed, pounding their feet in the stand. As four thousand people moved in unison, the foundations of the building began to shake.

“Oh fuck!” howled Phryne, as she felt herself begin to quiver uncontrollably. The sensation pushed Jack further towards his own climax and he suddenly tried to hold back.

“Phryne!” he exclaimed, “I’m going to… Do I need to?” he could barely find the words needed.

“It’s fine, Jack!” shrieked Phryne, answering the incomplete question. 

Jack found his previous rhythm once more, before he found himself speeding up as his release drew closer. Phryne curled up off the desk as her climax flooded through her. 

The final siren sounded and the fans roared in delight. The bouncing of the fans in the stand made the vibrations which were shaking the foundations seep into the joists supporting the floor of the office. The whole room shook. 

“OH JACK!” Phryne screamed as she pulled herself up and dug her fingernails into his bent thigh. The pain mingled with pleasure and pushed Jack over the edge. He released into her, the pulsations of Phryne’s own climax increasing the intensity of his own. The moan which emerged from him was guttural, the release total.

As they slowly recovered, both panting slightly, Phryne released her bent leg, flexing it before dangling it off the desk. Jack pulled her to him and kissed her lovingly. They both shifted, Jack moving the hand which had been under Phryne’s bottom, and Phryne dropping her leg which had been wrapped around Jack’s hip. This allowed him to release his bent leg from the desk and he carefully placed his foot on the ground. They kissed for a few minutes more, before Phryne became aware of noise coming from the corridor outside the office.

“I think the match is over, Jack” she said, “we should probably get dressed.”

Jack nodded in agreement and took a step back. Phryne reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping him in his movements. She reached up and kissed him gently. Taking the scarf which was still loosely draped around her shoulders, she swept it from her shoulders, and placed it gently around Jack’s neck. She smiled at him sweetly, and kissed him lightly on the lips. 

They dressed quickly, and attempted to arrange the papers back on the desk in some semblance of order. They laughed as they did, both agreeing that if asked, they would say they had moved the items to facilitate easier examination of the ‘evidence’ they had come to ‘inspect’.

Jack looked around the room. He had never imagined that the first time he joined with Phryne it would be on a desk, in the grandstand of the MCG, during the VFL Grand Final, and whilst he was technically on duty. Phryne allowed herself a little smile. She had long imagined that Jack had hidden depths, but he had surpassed her hopes significantly today. 

Jack slid the chair away from the door, and cautiously opened it. He popped his head out and checking that the corridor was now clear, grabbed Phryne’s hand and tugged her lightly to him. They made their way back up the stairs, emerging into the fading daylight. 

The Collingwood players were undertaking a lap of victory around the edge of the pitch. Phryne looked at the scoreboard; Collingwood had won by twenty-nine points, for a third consecutive premiership. Phryne looked at Jack with an expression of sympathy.

“I’m sorry you lost Jack” she said, squeezing his arm.

“I’m not sure I did” he replied, securing his scarf more firmly around his neck, “In fact, I’m fairly sure I didn’t” he added, as he bent down and carefully kissed Phryne on the cheek. She turned her head and kissed him on the lips, wrapping an arm around him. 

She smirked slightly, and rose to her tiptoes to whisper into his ear, “Indeed Jack, a first class performance”.


End file.
